I took a nap in my van today, and I think my soul yelled at me.
Or screeched at me, technically.
So here’s the scene… I’m passed out in Oscar (my van, not a person, though honestly, he’s earned first-name status at this point). I’m deep in dreamland, but the dream pretends I’m awake. I’m just lying there, in the same place I actually am, everything calm. Still. Normal. And then… I hear something.
On the roof.
A little shuffle, a thud, like claws maybe.
I look up, and this bird—a hawk or something hawk-ish—just twists through the vent. Like wind. Or smoke. Or the ghost of something wild. It doesn’t break anything, just moves through the mesh like the laws of physics are optional. It lands. And it stares at me.
We make full-on eye contact. No chill.
It’s not threatening, but it’s not exactly cozy either. It’s intense.
It feels like it’s trying to tell me something.
Then—SCREEEEEECH!!!
I jerk awake, breath caught, heart pounding.
Welcome back to the waking world. Sort of.
What the hell was that? I sat here for a bit just trying to process and remember the details, but other than what was stated… it just seemed pretty normal, I honestly thought I was awake in the dream. But the hawk sort of phasing through the vent was weird.
First off: hawks don’t typically ghost-float through vents. So, safe to assume this wasn’t just a bird. This was a Messenger Bird™. A dream ninja. A tiny feathered prophet from the in-between.
And yeah, maybe I read too much into things.
But also… maybe I don’t.
Dream Analysis for the Emotionally Exhausted and Spiritually Curious
Let’s pretend I’m five years old (emotionally, that tracks). Here’s what this dream was probably trying to say:
The bird is small but mighty. Something inside me is waking up. It’s not full-blown hawk energy yet, but it’s getting there. Baby hawk vibes: brave, awkward, full of potential.
It’s gray with color. Which means: not everything is good or bad right now. it’s just real. And the colors? That’s my own magic leaking through the cracks.
Yellow beak with a brown tip. (Yes, I noticed that detail, even in a dream.) Yellow is communication, brown is grounding. Translation? My truth is trying to root itself. My voice is growing legs (or… wings? Still not sure).
The vent. Normally a barrier. In real life, it keeps bugs and weather out. In dream life, it’s the filter between the ordinary and the divine. And this hawk-bird? It doesn’t give a damn about filters. It came in anyway.
The stare. It didn’t just visit. It saw me. Like… deeply. And I saw it. No hiding. No pretending.
The screech. Final boss-level symbolism. That was my soul’s alarm clock.
“WAKE UP. PAY ATTENTION. DON’T MISS IT.”
So, what’s the deeper message here?
I think this dream wasn’t just about a bird.
It was about me.
That hawk was a symbol of my higher self. My intuition. My messy, magical, half-awake sense of clarity that’s starting to stretch its wings.
It came in to say:
“You’re waking up. You’re starting to see what matters. Don’t close your eyes now.”
It’s no coincidence that I’ve been peeling back layers lately. Emotionally, creatively, spiritually. Trying to get honest with myself about what I want, what I need, and who I actually am beneath the performance. This dream felt like confirmation. Like something sacred is watching me get there… and is cheering me on (loudly).
Final Thoughts From the Van
I don’t think the hawk was just in my dream.
I think it is me.
Or some part of me that knows more than I do.
The part that isn’t afraid to fly through barriers.
The part that sees clearly, even from above.
The part that screeches when I’m falling asleep to my own potential.
So if you’ve been feeling something stirring inside you, too…
if there’s a whisper, or a thud on your roof, or a feeling that something’s trying to get through…
Let it.
Look it in the eye.
And maybe screech back.
You’re not alone.
You’re being called.